


Gently Fall

by atlasofirongall



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), The Legend of Barney Thomson (2015)
Genre: Barnelle - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Rumbelle Secret Santa, Rumbelle Secret Santa 2016, rss 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 18:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8928112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlasofirongall/pseuds/atlasofirongall
Summary: "Out the frosted windows, grey sleepy Glasgow was laid with quilted silver. The moonlight that managed to seep through the hanging clouds gave the snow a heavenly glow. As Belle turned back to her plate for a bite, Barney was tucked into his own, and from the looks of it he liked the penne and prosciutto, tradition or no.She was glad that she’d come to Glasgow, and that the awkward, cynical but still tender-hearted barber had stumbled – and quite literally - upon her path."A nice little nugget of fluffy goodness for my friend minticetea, for Rumbelle Secret Santa 2016.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MintIceTea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintIceTea/gifts).



> Prompt: Anyelle - snow, first Christmas together
> 
> This little nugget is set after the Barney Thomson film and some time after the end of Once Upon a Time season 3, for a reference point. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, Minty my dear!

If she was close enough to the window, she could smell the most delightfully wintery scent -- the evergreen fragrance of cedars hooded with freshly fallen snow. If she closed her eyes she could see it, the brittle feathered sprigs peeking through the caps as soft, damp powder continued to fall. Her own winter wonderland, crafted by a little imagination and a holiday candle.

The label said _‘Midnight Mistletoe’_ , but Belle didn’t smell that. Mistletoe should smell greener she thought. Like briar or bramble or grass. It reminded her more of the cedar woodlands she knew and missed from chapters of her life passed.

She opened her eyes, looking out the frosted glass at the street outside her cozy library. Avonlea and Storybrooke had provided many picturesque scenes this time of year, and while the scenes here contrasted in distinguishable ways, Glasgow was home. For the time being, and the foreseeable future.

On this Christmas Eve not many people were daring enough to step away from their fires, and the street hadn’t seen a single car to break the snow for hours. The sight of Barney’s car rolling up the powdery street was obscene as it crept closer, crudely cutting into tire tracks long since coated over. It looked so very cold out there, and as though registering the cold glass pressed against her nose for the first time, Belle shivered and backed away.

Wisps of smoke curled weakly where she blew out the lovely, misnamed candle, and she did what little needed doing before stepping out of her personal furnace, rather reluctantly, into the cold. Barney surprised her at the door, a hand outstretched to open it. Belle was met with such remorse as it swelled in her breast; she regretted making him brave the frigid conditions to bring her home. His cheeks and nose were flushed viciously against the cold, and he rubbed his hands for warmth. Even as their eyes met, though, she neither heard nor saw a complaint from him.

“Ready tae go?” he asked, blowing into his cupped hands.

“Yeah,” she answered, turning on brittle ankles to lock up. The brass key retained some of the warmth from indoors and radiated some through her gloves, though it took mere seconds to lose it. It was no wonder, when just a simple exhale produced a billowing plume of fog. Tucking the key into her pocket she waddled with Barney to the car.

It was running, still, and Belle was grateful for the wall of heat that met her as she opened the door. She knew she had only been outside for a couple of minutes, if that, but the sudden emergence into the welcoming warmth made her chilled cheeks sting. She covered them with her hands once she was seated. They both arrived at the seat buckles at the same time, which resulted in hands brushing as they fumbled with their belts. Belle chuckled when Barney’s forehead bumped her on the nose, and wriggled to allow him to buckle in his seat belt first. And with a bashful glance her way, as Belle finally got buckled in, Barney pulled away and they were off, rolling their way through the packed snow.

A hard edge was poking her in the ribs, and Belle remembered the book she’d smuggled out in her coat. Not _actually_ smuggled, of course… She’d gone through the appropriate procedure of checking it out. Belle tried her best to be a proper librarian. It just felt a little like smuggling, with the way she had stowed it in her coat. She only wanted to protect it from the snow. With a crescendoing zip, she opened her coat enough to pull it out, placing it reverently in her lap. Barney, curious, took careful glances from the road to look.

 “What’ve yeh got there?”

“ _Jane Eyre_. I like reading it this time of year,” she explained on a sigh. “I have this, too.” From an inner pocket of her coat she pulled a square case. “It’s new! Well, new to the library. Have you seen it?”

He shook his head after skimming the cover. “I’ve been wanting to watch that one.”

“Well I know you love a good Western. I thought maybe we could watch it tonight.” Belle smiled at the way his face lit up, and the lightness that came over him. Sweet Barney, he’d been such a good sport while she sat through her Christmas Harry Potter marathon. It was time to watch something _he_ wanted to watch, and she had a feeling this one would be a winner.

Soon they were wading their way to her door, having parked the car and wished it the best of luck. Neither of them had been fond of leaving the warm car, and Barney dragged his feet as he followed Belle. She reached for the latch on the gate to let them into the courtyard and, to her delight, noticed a few fluffy snowflakes drifting over her hand. With a spark of a thrill Belle looked up, blinking as snow fell into her eyes. It hadn’t snowed for hours and she had thought it was surely over.

“Oh, it’s snowing again!” Smiling and scrunching her nose as it started to tickle, she looked at Barney over her shoulder before pushing the gate open and walking in.

“Aye,” he said a little gruffly, shuffling through behind her. “I’ve never seen so much snow, Belle. I think yeh brought it with you.” He moved aside so she could push the gate closed, and stepped a hair too far to the right as he did, losing his footing on a slick spot. His boot slipped, he reached out to grab the fence. His fingers caught the faux green garland entwined with the iron instead, which snapped, and Barney let out a strangled sound that was somewhere between a cry and a desperate, pitiful groan.

Belle heard the disturbance while latching the gate, and when she turned she saw Barney on his back in the snow, looking up at the sky like he wished it would collapse on him. “Barney! Oh no, are you alright?” He didn’t say anything, just closed his eyes and looked like he wanted to sink beneath the snow. Belle just hoped he hadn’t hurt himself. But if he had, then he probably would have indicated it in some way. He mumbled something then, but it was too low for her to hear. Hurrying to his side, she held her hands out for him. “Let’s get you up and inside.”

One brown eye opened, peeking at her hesitantly, then the other opened. Belle waited for him to take her hands, lips twitching into something that might have turned into a smile. She knew how quickly he could interpret her actions and words the wrong way and didn’t want him to think she was laughing at him. She just wanted to get him out of the snow. At last he put his hand in hers, using his other to help push himself up. But it didn’t quite work out. Instead of levering himself up, his hand slipped and he fell back, this time bringing Belle with him.

Belle gasped when she toppled onto him. Luckily her knees and elbows didn’t land anywhere he wouldn’t want them to, but her chin knocked into his collar bone, causing them both to yelp. “Oh gods, sorry! I’m so sorry!” Belle had begun to scramble to get up but Barney gripped her elbows, and she realized she was probably doing more harm in struggling than she had with the impact itself. She looked down at him, worriedly biting her lip.

A few frosted breaths puffed out of his parted lips as he closed his eyes, then looked at her. He looked so ashamed and Belle really didn’t see why he was the one feeling ashamed when she had just crashed down on top of him like a total nincompoop.

Hearty, thick snowflakes were falling, then. A few fell on Barney’s face, making him squint. _Poor love_ , she thought to herself. Funny that someone as clumsy as Barney would attract someone just as graceless. But, she supposed, if the fates had a sense of humor then they could just as easily laugh along, couldn’t they? Granted that she hadn’t pierced one of his lungs in her plummet.

“Didnae mean to pull yeh,” he muttered, shamefaced, fishing one of his hands from beneath her to wipe at his face, and she suspected he was conveniently hiding behind it, too. “You’re alright?”

She gave a brief nod, a hint of a glimmer lighting in her eyes as she looked into his, and then a soft laugh bubbled past her lips. “I’m okay. Are you okay?” She giggled, putting a hand down in the snow and pushing herself up a little. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I’m alright,” he managed through a groan.

“My sweet Barney,” she said, leaning down. “I promise this isn’t a preview of what the rest of Christmas is going to be like,” she giggled, then pressed a kiss to his nose. He blinked as she did so, and then the slight pink already tinting his cheeks darkened. She began to shift to try and get up, but she noticed he still had a firm grip on her elbows, and didn’t seem to want to let her go just yet. Cerulean eyes flit back to his, a hint of curiosity glimmering in their depths as she silently questioned him, but the shy wanting in his expression quelled any doubts. Enchanted, she grinned before leaning down and capturing his waiting lips.

They both felt significantly warmer when they finally managed to haul themselves up and inside the building, sneaking shy smiles each other’s way as they brushed snow from themselves. They made the usual journey, through two sets of doors, a stairwell, and a hallway until they arrived at her door and let themselves in. As soon as they entered, the scent of basil and oregano met them, and Belle’s stomach rumbled. He had put her pasta dish in the oven as she’d asked, having prepared it earlier before going to work. Belle sent him a grin as they peeled off their layers. “Mm, it smells so good in here!”

“It’s all your hard work, Belle. All I did was put it in.” Barney trailed behind her as she moved into the kitchen. “It’s done. I just left it to keep warm.”

Practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, she went to the oven and peeked in, looking at the dish. “Oh, I can’t wait to dig in,” she said, closing the door. “I think I need to wash up first, though,” she said, giving him a shy tentative smile.

Barney looked at her, somewhat puzzled as to why she seemed to be asking permission. Nodding awkwardly, he said, “Aye, we can wait. Do what you need to do.” Rubbing her hands together, Belle slipped around him and left the kitchen.

Maybe, she hoped to herself as she meandered the hall to her bedroom, their Christmas Eve hadn’t been too badly crimped by her shift at the library. Barney seemed happy just to be there together, and she was grateful for his ease in flowing with her whims. From there on, she would make sure the rest of their Christmas together was perfect.

She didn’t keep him waiting for long, only changing into a soft shirt and some of Barney’s flannel pants, which she had stolen the night before. When she stepped into the dining area, she could see he had changed, too.   _Into something warmer after getting pinned in the snow by yours truly_ , she thought, and she didn’t blame him one bit. He was standing by the oven, looking uncertain of what to do with himself. When he saw her, his eyes went straight to the blue pants. A bashful twinkle of recognition shone in those rich, brown depths.

She didn’t say anything as she took down some plates and pulled the pan from the oven. She took to humming as she began dipping out spoonfuls of baked penne. After a moment, though, her humming was disrupted by the shrill cry of the kettle.

“There’s our water. Can you get it for me?”

She called the sweetly delivered question over her shoulder as she plated two hearty helpings of steaming pasta. Silence was the first response, and she smiled. After a few beats, he replied.

“Right, o-of course. Aye.”

The brazen whistle gave one last puny whimper as the kettle was taken off the heat. The sounds of porcelain being gathered, delicate yet sharp, were intermixed with the functional rhapsody of meal preparation.

Belle was proudly eyeing her work as she set aside the pan of baked penne. Warm, saucy and mouth-watering. All it needed were the extra but totally necessary finishing touches. A couple of pinches of freshly chopped parsley were sprinkled on each plate. She shaved some paper-thin pieces off the block of parmesan and set them atop the penne just so, and voila.

She couldn’t wait.

Turning with both plates in hand, she almost ran into Barney. A tiny sound of surprise came from her.

“Ope! I didn’t realize you were there,” she said, keeping the plates steady. Her eyes met his, and she inwardly gushed over the adorable helpless mess that he was. And he was _her_ adorable, helpless mess. “Looks good, doesn’t it?” she asked him, hoping to pull him out of his nervous stupor. He was flailing in his own little loch of anxiety and mixed longing, and she was tossing him the rope to bring him in.

He caught it, held tight. He nodded, though it was a small, sheepish movement. “Aye, it looks good. Smells good.” As though still pulling himself to shore, he offered his hands. “Some help?” A pause as he wet his lips. “Would you like me to help?”

“No, no, I’ve got it. You just bring the tea.” He may not have meant to wear his thoughts so plainly, but she could see it on his face; he was both glad he didn’t have to help and ashamed. Not being able to resist, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before making her way to the table.

Belle placed their plates on their settings and took her seat catercornered to his at the small dining table, discreetly watching him from beneath her lashes as he took his own chair. He was being quieter than usual. She bit her lip when he looked up and caught her watching. For a few slow seconds they stared at each other, her looking sheepish and him looking worried. She should have known he was nervous.

As a need to break the moment, and probably to have something to focus on, Barney stretched out his arm for the chardonnay. His fingers fumbled instead of reaching around the neck, and the bottle toppled. Belle saw his panic, but the bottle was fine. With practiced casual grace Belle brought her tea to her lips and tasted the warm, rich liquid, giving the man a break from her attention – long enough for him to catch his bearings and right the bottle.

After that he opened it with ease. He paused with the cork in his hand, looking at Belle nervously. “It’s too much, isn’t it? Wine and tea?” He exhaled heavily, and Belle reached her foot across to nudge his beneath the table. She sent him an encouraging smile.

“Not too much. It’s just different, but I don’t mind that one bit. Besides, after our little interlude in the snow, we need the warming up, don’t you think?” For a tad more encouragement she pressed her glass towards him, giving him a nod when he filled it with sparkling wine. She waited as he poured his, and then held up her glass. Cerulean eyes squinted thoughtfully. “What should we toast?”

Barney blinked, then dropped his eyes to the table top. “Friends. And…and,” he paused, then swallowed. “Good food.” He looked like he wanted to say more, and Belle thought she might have understood. They hadn’t been _just friends_ for about six of the seven months they had known each other, but they were both tiptoeing along the line of not knowing how to say what they wanted to. Even if they had been clear in the bounds of their relationship.

She supposed his toast would work just fine. “To friends and good food,” she proposed, holding her glass towards his,” and to spending this time with those who matter to us most.” She couldn’t resist adding her own bit, and it was worth it to see the blush that bloomed across his cheekbones. Wordlessly he lifted his glass to meet hers with a delicate clink, and then they both had a precursory sip of the chilled, crisp chardonnay.

“I hope you like ham,” Belle said, taking her fork in hand and prodding it into her pasta. “I don’t know what the tradition is here, but where I’m from we eat ham on Christmas. And since it’s only Christmas Eve and it’s just the two of us, I thought maybe I’d…” A pause as she shot Barney a tiny, coy smile. “…improvise a little. There’s prosciutto in the pasta.” Quite honestly Belle was proud of the meal she’d thought up, and she really hoped Barney liked it. If nothing else, it would warm their bellies.

Out the frosted windows, grey sleepy Glasgow was laid with quilted silver. The moonlight that managed to seep through the hanging clouds gave the snow a heavenly glow. As she turned back to her plate for a bite, Barney was tucked into his own, and from the looks of it he liked the penne and prosciutto, tradition or no.

It wasn’t only their bellies that warmed with the meal. Barney eased, and they talked about his work and Belle’s studies, and her work at the library, and Belle let that lead into talk of aspirations. It was easy for her to do so, to talk of becoming an editor for a publisher, to talk of traveling and seeing more of the world. He would later blame it on the chardonnay but even Barney hinted that he wanted to travel to North America and see the wild west, or what used to be so.

Neither of them mentioned family. Cemolina had been gone almost three years, as Barney told it, and while Belle knew next to nothing about her she didn’t think Barney would have been anymore at ease were she there. It had been almost as long since Belle had seen her father laid to rest. Between seeing Rumple ripped from the world too soon and losing her father to a pulmonary complication, Belle didn’t feel she had much family left. This was just one thing that had led her out into the world.

She was glad, at least, that she’d come to Glasgow, and that the awkward, cynical but still tender-hearted barber had stumbled -- _and quite literally_ \-- upon her path.

They were nursing their tea, tepid but still adequate for washing down their meal. Finally Belle pushed back her chair and gathered their plates. Barney’s hand shot out to bar her from taking his. “I can take it, Belle. Yeh don’t have to take it all,” he told her, warm amber eyes almost pleading.

She nodded. “Okay. You can help me with dessert, then.” That renewed his interest.

Despite having dessert on her mind, the sink stacked with dishes caught her attention, and it gnawed at the forefront of her thoughts as they cleared the table. Although she had done most of the dish cleaning that morning, their plates and silverware needed some scrubbing. Barney seemed to know her mind, still at her side and looking at the small mess. In agreement, the two of them washed and dried. While doing dishes was a chore that neither of them really enjoyed doing, doing them together somehow made it a sort of sweet, lightly playful team effort. Fingers touched as they passed plates to each other, arms brushed, and little smiles were exchanged.

It had been a long time since Belle had felt so good. Since she could feel such warm contentment while seeing to the most inane of tasks.

Not that she fretted when they finished. Barney and Belle shared a rag to dry their hands, and she enjoyed the brief but heart-warming glimpse of contentment that she saw in his eyes. It was something she saw more often these days. For such a long time the man had avoided her eyes and shied from her. Belle wasn’t sure what had changed, but she was glad for it.

Catching her lip between her teeth, Belle turned to the refrigerator, and couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out at the sight of Barney’s face when he saw the chocolate pie.

“You’re trying teh kill me,” he moaned, looking longingly as Belle turned the pie on the counter before cutting in. She laughed, tickled at his excitement over the simple dessert. She couldn’t blame him though, really. She knew how much chocolate had gone into making it and knew it would be as delicious as it looked.

“Oh, Belle…” Barney leaned on one arm on the counter top as she placed his slice in front of him.

“Don’t start just yet…” Her own slice was laid on a plate and then she went back to the refrigerator bouncing on the balls of her feet. This pie would be good as it was, but with just a little whipped cream it could be decadent. A towering peak of cream was topped on Barney’s slice, then one on her own. “Alright, now you can start.” She knew they weren’t going to make it to the table with their plates. Barney showed such enthusiasm taking his first bite that Belle waited, holding her bite as she watched him rave over it.

“Shite, this is how I’m going to die.” Barney took another bite, closing his eyes as he savored it.

Belle hummed her agreement as she cleaned the chocolate from her fork and dipped in for another bite.

“Death by chocolate. I can think of worse ways to go,” she added after a few beats filled with nothing but chewing. She looked up and laughed at a smudge of chocolate on his face, having to cover her mouth. “You’ll have to write to Ruby and Ariel for me if I keel over. Let Ruby have my apartment, okay? She wants to travel so badly.” She smiled as she reached and cleaned away the smudge from his face with her finger. Barney’s face lifted when she did, apparently having missed feeling it there.

“Want this?” she asked playfully as she offered him the chocolate on her finger. He paused, looking at her with twinkling eyes and a bashful, lopsided smile. Belle realized how provocative it was only then. She had just been playing. Feeling a warm blush creep into her cheeks, Belle brought the finger to her mouth, eating it off herself, suddenly feeling quite shy. She felt him move in closer, felt his hand lightly rest on her arm as his face inched nearer and their foreheads almost touched. The scent of warm chocolate lingered on his breath, a sweet overtone to the soft, clean smell of aftershave.

The same tingling thrill that she’d come to know with him rippled through her as they remained there, brow to brow, warm brown eyes looking into blue. There was a hesitant playfulness in his eyes as he looked into hers, where a shyness and a gentle hope glimmered. It was quite the opposite of how it usually was, tables having turned a bit, and Belle would have found it comical were she not so shy and hopeful for the kiss he seemed to silently offer. He came closer, the tip of his nose touching hers. And as the progression usually went, she met him halfway, moving in that last teasing inch.

It was a sweet, light meeting of mouths at first. A soft greeting as lips embraced lips, holding on as though meeting after an unwilling separation. It brought such a gentle joy to Belle’s heart, falling over her like a feathery snow, and like she might do in falling snow she reached out to touch, slipping her hands up his chest where one traveled around his neck. Barely a breath of a moment after did Barney reach for her, too, wrapping his arms around her, but keeping his hands light as though to barely touch her.

The warmth and nearness and decadent taste of chocolate on his lips had Belle wanting more, and a bit of her usual courage came back. She pressed into the kiss a little more, sucking gently on his lip. Barney shivered just before he pulled away.

Shallow, ragged breaths puffed through his parted lips, and he trembled. Opening her eyes, Belle studied him and with some concern. She feared it had been too much, and that he would retreat from her. But he didn’t, he still held to her and stayed close, with closed eyes. They had been farther before, and definitely more times than she could count on hand, but Belle could never be sure when he was ready to go that extra step. Sometimes he froze, afraid of what Belle couldn’t say. Watching him with softly lidded eyes she frowned. She reached up, touching his cheek, and when he didn’t respond, she stroked him. He only inhaled unevenly before reluctantly meeting her eyes. She stroked his cheek again and smiled.

What ever could he be so afraid of, she wondered, when he’d seen all of her before, had all of her? When she had seen and felt all of him, and loved it all. What could make him so nervous from a kiss?

She heard him swallow and then he nodded, a nervous broken bob of his head. Belle waited for him to speak, but he seemed at a loss. He was struggling again.

It was time to throw him another line.

“How about we watch your movie?” She made the suggestion gently, trying not to throw it out there so abruptly that he knew it was a topic change.

Some certainty came back to him, she could see. There was less fear in his eyes and his breathing slowed. He nodded, seeming to like the idea.

“We can take our pie with us. Would you like some more tea?” she asked. He nodded again, this time wetting his lips before looking away, trying to steal some time to gather himself. Belle felt a spark of warmth in her heart, a flare of adoration that he seemed to kindle by the day, and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone before moving to top up their cups.

Soon after, they found themselves settled in the sitting room. Belle sat back, navigating through the menu features of the film with the remote while Barney dunked his tea. After a while he sat back and set his cup on the end table, then placed his plate of pie in his lap and enjoyed some more while looking at the television. The opening credits were rolling on screen. Belle bent, placing the remote on the coffee table, then sat back.

After they had both finished their pie and set their plates aside, she discreetly eyed the small gap of space between them on the couch. Barney was sitting there, almost ramrod straight, hands in his lap, and she watched his Adam’s Apple bob. He was almost never the first to make a move, even though she had never turned him down. Almost seven months they had been together and he was still so shy.

Drawing her legs up, she leaned closer to him, laying her head against his shoulder. After a few heartbeats she felt him soften and wind his arm around her. She sighed, nestling into his side. The first characters appeared on the screen and there was a swell of western music, and Barney was drawn to the movie. As Belle felt him relax further, she felt her heart beating as a mimicking echo to his.

They remained that way for some time, curled up and wrapped in each other as they watched the movie. Every once in a while Belle found her attention straying to wonder at the lights on the tree in the corner. Each time she knew she’d missed something important in the film, for just as she slipped into a trance, Barney would hum thoughtfully and shift.

After the movie was over the two of them stayed as they were, enjoying each other’s embrace. Belle still watched the lights. The faintest hum of a bell’s toll filled the soft silence; church bells signaling midnight. Surprised that the time had gotten away from them, Belle stirred from her trance, but found she couldn’t move. Then she registered the slow, deep breaths behind her.

“Barney?” she whispered, kneeling her head back to see him. His eyelids twitched and his lips moved, and a moment later he opened his eyes just enough to see her.

“Mm?” he barely managed, letting his head slowly fall back against the couch.

A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, watching her sweet love doze. She looked around, assessing their situation, and sighed. She wouldn’t dare say that Barney was an old man, but she knew if she slept sitting there her body would punish her for it come morning. She wasn’t foolish enough to pretend it would be any different for him. They couldn’t do it. But as she took another look at Barney’s placid face, and reminded herself of the clumsiness which they both seemed to be gifted with, she knew there would be no moving.

Disentangling herself from his arms was a small matter, as sleepy and limp as he was. Once free, Belle tweaked the lever on the side of the couch that allowed the section they sat on to recline. It wouldn’t be flat, and therefore it wouldn’t be the most comfortable sleep, but they would have more space that way, as opposed to stretching out together longways. While up, she saw to the little things that had to be done to shut down for the night.

Once the lights were out and the television was turned off, Belle made her way back to the couch by the light of her phone. Barney had resituated himself in his half-slumber, now stretched out across the reclined sectional, and he looked so peaceful in his repose that Belle felt her heart melt a little. He hardly stirred as she crawled in beside him, curling herself into his side. A light, deep hum sounded from his throat when she brushed a kiss to his brow, then the tip of his nose, and he turned his face towards her a beat before she kissed his mouth. He didn’t try to return her affection, at least not in that way. His arm came to wrap around her and hold her close to him.

It wasn’t the best place to sleep, and yet it was. Enveloped in their shared warmth with a quilt thrown over them, Barney’s soft breathing and gently beating heart beneath her ear, and the continuous merry twinkle of the lights on the tree. Belle couldn’t imagine spending her Christmas Eve any other way. Turning her face she pressed her lips against his chest, kissing him through his shirt where his heart kept rhythm.

In the quiet, in the warmth kept by their snuggling bodies and all the affection therein, Belle whispered softly, “Merry Christmas, Barney.”


End file.
